


The Contract

by Dramione84



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Marriage Contracts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramione84/pseuds/Dramione84
Summary: Neither Daphne nor Gregory want to get married but when they find there is no way out of their Marriage Contract they resolve to make the best of a bad situation.
Relationships: Gregory Goyle/Daphne Greengrass
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	The Contract

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to Venomandvine for awesome beta work, notes, and all round cheer leading, and to pandorarose and pleasantmoonanchor for inital beta work. Thanks too, to LumosLyra for the prompt, this story is gifted to her.

The click of Daphne’s heels echoed down the hallway as she made her way to Theodore Nott’s office.

This could not be happening, she thought to herself as she waited impatiently for him to answer the door, tapping her foot lightly in annoyance. Finally, after what seemed an age, the door opened and out blustered Percy Weasley, who looked the young witch up and down before choosing to ignore her completely.

“Thanks for that, Nott,” Percy said as he reached out a hand to shake Theo’s before bidding him goodbye.

Theo turned to Daphne. “Care to come in?”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “I don’t exactly have time for pleasantries, Theo.”

Theo nodded and gestured for her to proceed into his office.

“I’ve had a cursory look at the document you brought to me,” Theo told her, shutting the door and warding it for extra privacy, which Daphne appreciated. She settled into the chair opposite his desk as Theo took his own seat. “And?” she questioned.

Theo sighed as he opened the drawer to his right and pulled out the document in question. Daphne tried her best not to look at it, the words 'Marriage Contract' making her feel physically ill. 

“It appears to be ironclad,” Theo informed her gently. “It seems your Father took every precaution and thought of every possibility, even the event of you marrying someone before your twenty-fifth birthday, and if that marriage was childless it was to be dissolved.” He sighed, carding a hand through his hair. “I wish I had better news for you.”

Daphne tried to force back the tears that pooled in her eyes. “There must be something we can do,” her voice cracked, “I don’t want to marry Gregory Goyle, of all people!”

Theo shuddered at the thought. Neither of them had seen Gregory Goyle in nearly eight years. The last time either of them had seen him before he snuck off to Europe to avoid being caught up in Death Eater trials, was at school. 

Neither one of them had spared him a single thought until three weeks ago. Daphne had found the Marriage Contract while going through paperwork finalising the Greengrass Estate, with Theo. He had been appointed by the Ministry as the lawyer to ensure all was in order with the estate. It was his duty to ensure that the estate would be handled according to the wishes set out by Daphne's Father in his Last Will and Testament. 

Daphne had been sickened at the thought of a Marriage Contract, unbelieving when she saw the document, as neither her mother nor her father had mentioned one while they were alive. She knew too that magical contracts could not be ignored so there was little point in burning it and forgetting all about it as if it had never existed. There would be a copy filed with the Ministry, and a vow similar to the unbreakable vow would have been cast between her and her betrothed, making it impossible for either to back out of the contract without Ministry approval and removal of the vow by a curse breaker. How apt, Daphne had decided, when Theo explained this to her, for she saw this vow, this Marriage Contract, as a curse.

It wasn’t that Daphne had another man in mind to marry. Daphne was single by choice and had been for some time. She wanted to focus on building up her business, a fashion house she had started with Pansy Parkinson. Marriage and children were so far off her agenda for now that it was unthinkable for her to marry anyone, least of all Gregory Goyle. He hadn’t been the most pleasant of characters, bullying even the Slytherin first years that she and Pansy looked out for, pairing them up on their first day with third year students as buddies to show them the ropes. He was one of Draco Malfoy’s stooges; causing mayhem whenever he could simply because he could. And, Daphne considered, screwing up her nose as she recollected, he wasn’t exactly all that good looking.

Theo reached a hand across his desk to take Daphne’s smaller hand in his, squeezing gently. “I know you don’t want to marry him, and if I could find a way out of this contract for you I would, but I honestly don’t think you have a choice.”

Daphne nodded forlornly, accepting her predicament. “So what now?” Daphne asked, wiping away her tears with her free hand. 

“Well,” Theo began with a sigh. “Goyle’s parents will be in touch shortly because the Contract states that if you are not already dating by the time of your twenty fifth birthday, then they have until your twenty fifth birthday to start the formal betrothal process which, as you know, in our circles involves a year long process of introductions to society as well as being inducted into the families’ ritual practices and festivities, so...yule traditions and such like,” Theo explained.

Daphne shuddered at the thought. “Happy Birthday to me.”

*****

A week later, Daphne was sitting in the kitchen of the little flat near Diagon Alley that she shared with Pansy. It was a simple flat, right above their business premises, and simple in decor, far from the opulence that either girl had grown up surrounded by, but simple living was what both young witches had craved the most since the war. 

The tapping of an owl at the window interrupted Daphne from her train of thought, and with a sigh, she stood from the table and made her way to the window to let the little tawny bird in. She did not recognise the young owl but she did immediately recognise the wax seal on the envelope as she took it from the bird’s beak. It was from Gregory Goyle’s Father.

Daphne scanned the contents of the letter and gave the owl a treat, watching the small bird accept it with gratitude before winging its way back to its owner, wishing she could have such a simple life as a bird. Turning on her heel, she grabbed her shawl from the back of her chair and her handbag from the couch in the living room before heading to the fireplace. “Goyle Manor,” she spoke into the flames and in a flash of green she was gone.

Moments later she stepped out of the fireplace in the atrium of the Goyle residence, a small house-elf padding quickly to greet her. Daphne became aware of raised voices in the room opposite, which she presumed to be Goyle Senior’s study. Suddenly, the door opened and a young man Daphne hardly recognised came storming out.

Seeing her standing there, blushing slightly, the young man stopped and turned to her. Carding a hand through his hair, he extended his free hand in greeting.

“Hello Daphne, long time no see,” he smiled, and Daphne almost went weak at the knees. 

“Gregory,” she all but sighed, kicking herself internally for her reaction.

“It’s just Greg now,” he chuckled, taking her hand and kissing it like the perfect Pureblooded gentleman. “I’m sorry this is not the reception you should have had,” he glanced at the shut door of his father’s office. “Sometimes my family forgets it’s manners,” he stated apologetically. “And I’m sorry, you must have heard some of what was said just now,” he continued. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry you,” he informed her, causing her blush to deepen. “It’s that I don’t want to marry anyone. My work is far too important,” he explained.

Daphne furrowed her brow in confusion. “Your work? What exactly is it you do then?” she inquired, confused; like most of the society columns she read to keep abreast of the gossip, she assumed that he was dossing it around Europe living off his family's money.

Greg smiled as he gestured for her to follow him into the Blue Room, as his mother liked to call it. It was a small lounge opposite his father’s office and home to the nearest bottle of Ogden’s finest. “After the war,” he began, nodding for her to take a seat as he made his way over to the sideboard and picked up a bottle of Elf wine pouring Daphne a glass, which she accepted with thanks, “many of us low level Death Eaters were given a choice. Work for the Ministry, and the Aurors, or face trial. Call me a coward, but I did not fancy my chances if I stood trial; nor did Draco Malfoy, so the pair of us signed up to work with the Aurors. It wasn’t easy, and we faced many obstacles along the way, but Draco is now a Hit Wizard and I’ve been promoted to the Middle East desk with my own team. Eight years of hard work is finally paying off for me,” he explained as he poured himself a large glass of firewhiskey. He turned to face Daphne. “So you can see why marriage isn’t really an option for me right now.”

Daphne nodded before taking a sip of her wine. “It’s not really an option for me either, Greg, but I had Theo look into it and there really is no getting out of the contract. They even cast a betrothal vow.”

Greg’s face darkened. “I guess we really do have no choice then. I know what happens when you break a betrothal vow and it’s not exactly pretty.”

“Ah, there you are!” a female voice exclaimed, breaking the tension in the room as she entered. Daphne glanced up to see the middle-aged woman come and kiss Greg lightly on the cheek, before extending a hand to her. Daphne rose and took the woman’s hand, lightly shaking it. “Ursula Goyle,” the woman said, “I am to be your mother-in-law,” she smiled.

Daphne smiled in return, knowing that there was little she could do now but accept her fate, and that things would run a lot smoother from here on in if she didn’t dig her heels in, like she had first claimed to Pansy she would. She glanced at Greg over his mother’s shoulder and conceded that at least he had the same reservations as she did with regard to their marriage. 

*****

Daphne was the epitome of a Pureblood Princess, Greg had to admit, as he stared at her from across the ballroom, tumbling his glass of firewhiskey.

“Are you even listening to me?” Draco Malfoy huffed in annoyance, following Greg’s stare. “I guess not,” he conceded. “What’s the deal with you two, anyway? I thought you didn’t want to marry her?” Draco questioned.

Greg took a sip of the dark liquid, relishing the way it burnt the back of his throat. “I didn’t; I don’t,” he answered. “You have to admit though, I could certainly have done worse.”

“Yes, you certainly could have,” Draco grimaced as he glanced around the room at some of society’s less-than-perfect potential matches. Not all of them had the grace and poise that Daphne did. No, in terms of what was required of a Pureblood wife, Daphne had it all in spades, and for that Greg was grateful. The last thing he needed was some unbridled, passionate woman who would have affair after affair and ruin the reputation he was slowly restoring. And it wasn’t as though Greg and Daphne had nothing in common. In fact over the course of the last six weeks they had spent quite a bit of time together, getting to know one another, and forming an alliance of sorts. They had discovered that they liked the same literature; neither cared much for Quidditch although both enjoyed going to the final of the World Cup, and had the same taste in music, preferring the symphony to more modern tunes. In another life, Greg was sure they would have made the perfect couple. 

“You know you have got to live with her at some point, don’t you?” Draco questioned him, draining his glass. Greg mirrored the action, glancing at his friend and colleague sidelong. “I am aware, yes. In fact she is moving into my apartment this weekend.”

  
  


******

Daphne stared out of the expanse of glass, admiring the Thames. She had to admit that Greg’s apartment had fantastic views and, although she was sad to be leaving the flat she shared with Pansy, she was more than a little excited to be sharing this wonderful apartment with Greg.

“As I was saying,” Greg continued, placing the last box down and coming to Daphne’s side, “I have no expectations so, if you want to take the guest room, you are more than welcome to it.”

Daphne shook her head. At some point she was going to have to get used to sharing a bed with Greg, if only because the Marriage Contract of course had a clause regarding children that had to be fulfilled within the first three months. Turning, she placed a chaste kiss on Greg’s cheek, before stepping back slightly. It was the first moment of real intimacy the couple had experienced, their eyes met and for a moment neither was sure how to react. Daphne touched her fingers to her lips, then tentatively kissed Greg full on the mouth. He hummed slightly and Daphne did it again, a little more pressure this time, moving her body into his as Greg placed a hand on her hip. Then suddenly they were a mess of teeth and tongues as they grabbed at each other in unbridled passion. Greg’s hands were in Daphne’s hair, her hands loosening his tie. Each took what they needed from the other, unspoken words poured into each kiss. Greg tugged at the zipper of Daphne’s shift dress as Daphne made to tear his jacket from his shoulders. In one swift motion, Greg had lifted Daphne up bridal style carrying her through to what was to be their bedroom, depositing her roughly on the bed.

Everything was exactly how Daphne imagined it would be. Greg, ever respectful, had paused before entering her, looking into her eyes for confirmation that this was what she wanted. Daphne responded by wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in for a searing kiss. Soft and gentle to begin with, their love making was full of promises and Daphne was flying so high, waves of passion overcoming her as Greg upped his pace becoming more forceful with every stroke until he could hold back no longer.

Crashing down onto her, he felt her gently run her fingers through his hair and was soothed by the action. After several minutes, he climbed up the bed, pulling her slight body into his muscular frame, cradling her as the two dozed in post coital bliss.

When Daphne awoke some time later; it was dark outside and she found herself alone in the bed. Reaching for Greg’s shirt, she slipped it on and buttoned it up as she padded out of the bedroom. She heard him in the kitchen, pottering about as he made them dinner. Catching his eye as she seated herself at the kitchen bar, they both smiled.

“You look good in my shirt,” he winked, causing Daphne to blush as she admired her fiance cooking in just his boxers.

Whatever was happening between them, Daphne had to admit to herself that maybe this Marriage Contract wasn’t the worst thing in the world to happen to her after all.

  
  



End file.
